


At Night

by eigo130



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eigo130/pseuds/eigo130
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you are trying to go to sleep at night, your finds a way to wander as Stiles knows all to well.<br/>StilesX Derek</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Night

It would start happening in the middle of the night while he tries to go asleep.  
All the lights are off, the only light streaming from between the crack of his curtains, coming from the headlights of passing cars. The only sound heard within the house was the whirring of the air conditioner, and maybe a small beep indicating that the fire alarm still in fact worked.  
His father was asleep in his room; having went straight to bed after the late shift at work in the station, and even to check, Stiles went as far as to sneak up to his father's door and press his ear to the wood, listening for his fathers snoring. He did, and was satisfied to go back to his room and keep the worry of someone hearing him off his mind.

He could never think of Lydia this way, no no no, she was a perfect angel. An angel that should never be touched in distasteful ways... No, his mind drifted farther than sweet Lydia. It could have easily been Erica, and it first it was, until his hormones drove him further than that, wanting a more dominant being. Someone, like an alpha perhaps.  
His mind would snap; if Derek knew about these fantasies he would surely be mutilated, and if Scott ever heard, Oh GOD if Scott ever heard, he will never hear the end of it. Surprisingly, Scotts never ending fussing on how bad Derek is turns out to be a worst punishment then being killed by Derek. Killed by Derek... Mutilated by Derek...fucked by Derek.  
Stiles really hated himself for these thoughts. But, he couldnt help it, it was so... wrong... Maybe that was the most pleasurable about these fantasies. They would never happen. Not in years, not in centuries, not in EVER. Mr. Perfect Hale did not go that way. He went.... whichever way he went. He did not go Stiles-way.  
…  
Stiles almost screamed into his pillow for a second, fussing over whether or not he should just cut it off there; the thoughts of Derek climbing through his window, looking at him with those red eyes, suddenly needing him and only him, claiming him, GOD.   
Or maybe it was something softer, something more romantic touching upon the werewolf's gentler side. Derek would have finally caved into some hidden emotions he has, and confess to Stiles (whom would be taken by surprise of course because Seriously, Derek. Hale.) They would be together, and they would go on dates and kiss and hug and all that romantic stuff.   
Then sex, if Stiles was not bright red and hugging his blanket yet.  
Maybe it would be the other way around. Stiles could possibly be dominant to Derek, physically or relationship wise. Derek would plead for Stiles, and blushing and willing Stiles would obey. But, those fantasies were not as common as the previous two scenarios though.  
… … … And he was gone. He was far past salvation now. Stiles Stalinski has failed the test and is off in Derek Land, enjoying kiddy rides and roller coasters and the cotton candy off Derek Hale. Scott is pissed off because he cannot enter. No one can.  
His own hands touching himself where he knows he feels good, silent moans and hushed pants trickling from chapped lips. Yes... Stiles can feel it now; the over muscular body over his, towering his lithe frame and it feels good. The hot breath of Derek agianst his skin, his nails digging into his hips as he, unf... It feels almost to real, and in desperation to hold on, he goes out to hold onto the body, to hold onto to Derek...  
He ends up hugging himself. Of course, no one is there, there never was. Stiles is not sure if he feels relieved or greatly saddened at this fact.   
His chest rises and drops too quickly, the bed is to wet, his skin is to hot... Stiles darts to the shower. Every single night it is like this. Stiles curses as the cold water hits his skin. He curses puberty, he curses hormones, he curses the skin he wears and the werewolves that exist. He curses the moon and the sun and the flowers on the ground and Derek Hale. He curses Derek Hale and Scott, Allison, Peter, Erica, Issac, Boyd, his dad and that guy that punched him that one time and that drag queen and the whole world. He curses himself. He curses himself because he forgot a towel.   
Diving under his sheets once again, he mumbles about life and fantasies. How perfect Lydia is, and how much Jackson is a dick for hurting her, and a little bit about how Derek is hurting him.   
His back is to the window, letting the stars peek at his exposed back and the night breeze hug him. The last thing Stiles worries about is getting a cold.   
The last thing Stiles worries about is the Derek Hale character next to his house listening to everything said and done since the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> First Teen Wolf fanfiction ever, so if characters are out of their usual roles I apologize.   
> Thank you for reading and control yourself!


End file.
